Chapter 30 #2
My song, as arranged by me and the members of Call Me Kate, was released on the album they wrote during a frigid winter on Mackinac.
It wasn’t usually a hit with the patrons of Helga’s, but it was the band’s third-best performing single.
The band toured but never made it back to Mackinac before taking a hiatus so that Brooke could launch a solo career.
Sara brushed her hair out of her eyes and announced, “This next song is a special for our guitar player and her sweetheart.”
There was a chorus of aww from the crowd, and I held my hand to my heart to show them I appreciated it.
Kevin counted us down with his sticks, and I joined Sara at the mic.
We poured our hearts into “I’m a Believer,” knowing the crowd that had come in for the July yacht race and stayed to have a few drinks would join in and sing along.
From the stage, I couldn’t really see Rebecca holding my phone. And Annabelle still didn’t show up in photos or videos, so I couldn’t see her dancing, but I knew she was there. Every week, she watched us from the living room at Abaddon, dancing wildly and singing along at the top of her lungs.
***
Three years later
Annabelle sat on the bed while I stood at the wardrobe and contemplated throwing all of my clothes in the fire pit and starting over. Abaddon’s current guests were making the most of the summer, burning s’mores and telling scary stories in the backyard at the moment, though, so I gave up the idea.
“You’re going to have to learn the difference between Camembert and Pont l’évêque.” Annabelle kicked her slipper-clad feet as she babbled about cheese. “And in my experience, the streets are more pungent there, but that’s to be expected for people who have such a vibrant food culture.”
“Marley, I love you, but your experience with France is a little dated.”
She clicked her tongue.
“Are you going to help me pick out clothes or are you going to pout?”
“I’m not pouting,” she said, pouting. She floated over to the wardrobe to pout there. “Their tea selection might not be what you’re used to.”
“That’s true. I’m accustomed to the finest curation of teas this side of the Atlantic and this side of the twentieth century.” My internet search history included so many inquiries about bringing back tea from overseas that tea ads followed me around on my devices.
“Don’t make fun of me, Gibson.” Impossibly, she pouted even harder. “I just want to be sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone!”
“I’m the one who’s going to France, and I’ll be fine. You wanted me to go see the world.”
“I do! And I have my list of things to bring back.”
“I’ll get you everything on your list and then some. Rebecca has the iPad now, so you can watch the band while I’m gone. And I’ll video call you from the Eiffel Tower.”
She sighed. “I will watch the band, but it won’t be the same without you. You simply must see the view from the Sacré-C?ur, dear, I watched a video program about it. But you mustn’t bring a lock, or buy one, even if you’re tempted to. They’re weighing down the bridge, you see, and ...”
She chatted at me while I filled my suitcase with a half dozen black shirts and durable underwear. I bought an extra suitcase halfway through my trip and filled it with things that reminded me of her, along with gifts for Yasmin and Nate, the Johnsons, and Big Mike and the kids.
When I returned, the porter who helped me bring my luggage from the ferry to the house was a college kid making a buck on Mackinac for the summer. He had enormous arms and laughed when I told him I owned the famous Mackinac haunted house.
When I opened the door to Abaddon, the guests were out for the evening and Annabelle had forgotten to turn on the lights. She was sitting in her alcove alone, an unmoving, half-visible facsimile of a person with eyes that stared out of her face like cold, dead glass.
The look was gone as soon as I turned on the lights, replaced by her usual cheer.
***
Five years later
“Will I be a ghost when I grow up?” Lily shoved a piece of watermelon in her mouth, then spit out the black seeds. She took one of them and put it gently in her brother’s hair. He smiled and drooled, trusting her completely.
The adults looked at each other around the picnic table.
“No, dear,” Annabelle said gently. “You’ll be a very lovely, vivacious, strong young lady and you’ll do great things.”
“But I want to be a ghost like you!”
“Lil, remember how we talked about Auntie Annabelle?” Yasmin said, removing the seeds from her son’s hair. I held my palm out and she deposited them in my hand, holding it briefly before letting go. “Auntie Annabelle is a special auntie, remember?”
“I ’member.”
“And remember how she came to visit last year? We went out to the beach and found her.”
Yasmin, Annabelle, and I studied the little girl’s face, waiting for her answer.
“Yep. I saw her kissing Auntie Gibson behind the shed,” she said, matter-of-fact.
I cleared my throat, but Yasmin didn’t miss a beat.
“That’s because Auntie Gibson loves Auntie Annabelle very much,” she said. She’d taken to motherhood, and everything else she’d decided to do, like a duck to water.
I met Annabelle’s eyes and felt a flush rising to my cheeks.
Last year, we held a grand party at the house to celebrate Annabelle’s return.
I’d taken her hand and led her behind the shed, grinning and shoving her against the wall and kissing her—and kissing her and kissing her—until a gang of small children mounted a search party determined to find their wayward ghost friend.
“You wouldn’t like being a ghost, dear one,” Annabelle said, turning to Lily. “Walking through furniture isn’t all it’s made out to be. You wouldn’t be able to hug your brother Jack.”
Lily made a face at the toddler seated next to her, clearly uninterested in any hugging that might occur between her and her sibling.
“And just think of all the delicious food you’d miss out on!”
Lily frowned, clearly not liking that answer, either. She took a giant bite of watermelon, and the juice dripped down her chin to her chest, staining her shirt.
I said, “I think I’ll be a ghost. I’ve decided.”
Lily’s face lit up like a little sun while Annabelle’s clouded.
“I’ll come back and haunt you, little monster,” I said, putting down my own slice of fruit, then slowly approaching Lily with my hands poised to tickle her. “I’ll find you when you’re sleeping and I’ll put spiders in your nose!”
I pretended that I was going to grab her but gave her plenty of opportunity to escape. I chased my goddaughter, screaming with laughter, across the lawn until we both collapsed in a heap. When I looked back at the group at the picnic table, Annabelle wasn’t there.
Eleven years later
This far into autumn, Sunset Rock was mostly empty. The bruised sky faded from a deep amber wash into shades of purple as it met the still line of the lake at the horizon.
A few blinking buoys winked at us from afar.
Gulls swooped overhead, searching for scraps.
A flying V of geese zoomed by them, reaching to catch up with their already migrated counterparts.
I held tightly to Annabelle’s hand, solid and warm in mine.
We were both sweating a little, and I savored the slide of Annabelle’s palm against my palm.
I ran my thumb over her knuckles, feeling the little bumps and trying to memorize them.
“Will you be okay?” I asked.
We hadn’t spoken much since climbing up here. I carried the picnic basket on the hike up to the high spot, while she carefully held the wine.
Annabelle gave me a surprised look and squeezed my hand. “What do you mean?”
“When I’m gone.” I brought our clasped hands to my lips and kissed her fingers softly. I pressed a kiss to each one, taking my time. When I finished kissing her hand, I met her gaze. The sadness in that familiar depth of blue filled me with a familiar ache. “Will you be okay?”
“Oh, darling.” She pulled me forward and kissed me as lightly as I’d kissed each finger of her hand. We held each other gently as the sun set on our only day together for the next three years. Wet tears streamed down her cheeks, and I kissed them away.
“My darling,” Annabelle said again, not answering the question. She kissed me until her body faded in my arms and the sky was lit only by stars and the pale light of the moon.
***
Many years later
“Next year, have Jack do the pruning and clean up the garden, dearest,” Annabelle said, rocking back and forth gently in her chair.
The first snow was falling on Mackinac, bringing with it the peaceful silence of winter.
I brought a blanket and two steaming mugs out to the back deck.
I handed Annabelle her tea and arranged myself in the chair, groaning as I lowered down.
She said, “See? I can tell it’s bothering your back. You don’t need to do it yourself. The grandkids like to gather the leaves and jump on them, so let Jack do it while they’re here.”
“Okay, okay.” I put my hands around my cocoa mug, feeling its warmth.
I watched the moon. It was a sliver of steel barely visible in a cloudy, dark blue sky.
The cold wind coming off the lake ruffled my hair.
I’d grown it out, gathering it in a ponytail and letting it fall down my back like a silver rope.
“We’ll make a day of it next year. Have the kids over and tell them garden cleanup day is a national holiday. ”
“Gibson,” Annabelle said, and there was something catching at the edges of her voice. There was an echo to the way she said my name, some shadow I couldn’t see. “Darling, I—”
I turned to her.
Annabelle looked the same as she always had.
She glowed faintly from within, with that ethereal light I had found beautiful from the moment I saw it.
Her fluffy white-blonde hair had never changed, nor had all the ways her face expressed what she was feeling.
The other half of my song sat with me, smiling sadly and looking at the moon.
“I need you to know that I will always—it will always have been worthwhile, loving you. My afterlife, for whatever purpose I was allowed to remain, has been the greatest gift I could possibly hope to receive.”
“Marley—”
“I just need you to know.” Annabelle reached out a hand, palm up. She held it between us, hovering in the air between our chairs. Together, we rocked back and forth, watching the gradual wilting of our garden as autumn faded into winter.
I reached for her.
“I’m still here, Marley,” I said, smiling. “But when my time is up, wherever you are, I’ll find you on the other side.”
THE END